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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503245">Charcoal Lines</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax'>Taliax</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Aged-Up Character(s), College, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Humor, Identity Reveal, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), not an au necessarily but does take place when they're in university</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:08:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette needs a model to finish her figure drawing portfolio.  If drawing Chat Noir will distract him from asking why she refuses to ask Adrien, then she'll make it work.  (It's not like his suit leaves much to the imagination, anyway.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1537</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Drawing Chat Noir</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">

        <li>
          Translation into Русский available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865360">Угольные линии</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/trololonasty/pseuds/trololonasty">trololonasty</a>
        </li>


    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Marinette and Adrien are in university, both 19 in this.  I know most figure drawing classes use completely nude models, but the one I went to in university used models in bathing suits, and I’m not going for a nsfw vibe with this, so I’m going to take some artistic liberties and have Marinette’s class be that way.  (Or at the very least, she wouldn’t ask anyone to model for her nude outside of class.)  This is just a silly shenanigan fic, no sexy times here, even if there will be plenty of shirtlessness next chapter.</p><p>I meant to finish this in time for Marichat May but better late than never I guess haha</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you Pi for drawing a scene from this fic for me!! I've embedded the image at the bottom, but here's a link to the original post as well: https://the-picayune.tumblr.com/post/624984068404166656/illustration-for-gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights<br/>it's absolutely STUNNING i cannot scream about it enough</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is terrible!”  Marinette flopped face-first onto her bed and wailed into her pillow.  “I’m going to fail figure drawing, and get kicked out of the design major, and never get an internship and starve trying to get commissions and I won’t be able to afford cookies for you which means you’ll have to find a new chosen and Chat Noir will hate me <em>and—”</em></p>
<p>“Marinette, <em>breathe!”  </em>Tikki ordered, lightly smacking the part of her cheek that wasn’t buried in her pillow.  “You’re catastrophizing again!  None of that is going to happen.”</p>
<p>On a conscious level, Marinette knew that.  But that didn’t particularly matter right now when her mind was racing and the final due date for her portfolio was days away and there was <em>no way </em>for her to catch up now.</p>
<p>The figure drawing lab was closed for the models to prepare for their finals.  This wouldn’t be a problem, except she had missed too many classes due to akuma attacks to finish the pieces she needed.  All she had were five out of fifteen finished drawings and six loose sketches, hastily abandoned while she made increasingly awful excuses to go transform.  <em>“I need to go water my plant” </em>had been the most recent.  It was a miracle Professor Carbonneau hadn’t kicked her from the class already, considering how coveted the seats were.</p>
<p>But it didn’t matter if she was technically in the class if she couldn’t draw enough live models to pass.</p>
<p>“It’s hopeless, Tikki.  There’s no way they’ll let me retake this class. I barely got a spot in the first place.”  </p>
<p>“It’s not hopeless,” her kwami said more softly.  “You’re <em>Ladybug.  </em>You’re luckier than that.  And you’ve worked too hard to fail now.  I know you’re stressed, but you can’t give up!”</p>
<p>She rolled over onto her back, shoulder brushing a drawing that had slid down the wall and gotten lodged in the crack next to her bed.  She pulled it out only to crumple it and toss it towards her trash can.  Even the better designs she’d hung from a wire with tiny clothespins felt more like mockery than inspiration right now.</p>
<p>“If I wasn’t Ladybug, I wouldn’t have had to miss so much class in the first place.”  She sighed.</p>
<p>“I know, Marinette.”  Tikki patted her shoulder consolingly.  “I wish it didn’t have to be so hard on you.  You give everything you have into both being Ladybug <em>and </em> creating your art.  You shouldn’t have to give up one for the other.”</p>
<p>In a way, it felt like she already had.  She’d never abandon Paris, no matter how frequently fighting Hawkmoth’s villains cut into her classes.  But could she really abandon her dreams of becoming a designer either?</p>
<p>“You’re right, Tikki.  I’ll… figure something out.”  She smiled and rubbed Tikki to her cheek.  “I can look up reference pictures online, I guess.  The details won’t be as good as drawing from life, especially for the size of paper I have to use, but it’ll have to work.”</p>
<p>“I could always model for you!”  Tikki joked, flashing a few poses she’d surely seen from the Agreste magazines Marinette used to have plastered everywhere.  She figured she’d look weird enough to her flatmates from her odd sleeping habits and patrol times without adding photos of her old crush into the mix.</p>
<p>“Thanks for the offer, Tikki.”  Marinette giggled at the kwami’s attempt to look flirty.  “But I think this course is meant to teach <em>human </em>anatomy.”</p>
<p>“I bet one of your other friends would model for you if they knew how important this was,” she insisted.  “What about Adrien?”</p>
<p><em>“No!”  </em>Marinette smacked her fist to her forehead to try to dislodge the image of Adrien <em>shirtless and posing for her </em>that came unbidden.  “I can’t ask him!  I’m trying to actually get art done, not drool all over the carpet.”</p>
<p>“I haven’t seen you drool in a while.  Not over him, anyway.”  Tikki smiled knowingly, and Marinette glared.</p>
<p>“I do <em>not </em>drool over Chat Noir either.”</p>
<p>“I never said anything about him.”</p>
<p>She groaned, flopping back and wishing the mattress would just swallow her up already.  She <em>didn’t </em>drool over Chat.  He’d gotten over his crush on Ladybug before they came to university.  Unlike her, apparently, he knew how to move on.</p>
<p>Not that it mattered, because she didn’t have time for a boyfriend!  She was stressed enough as it was!</p>
<p>She took a few deep breaths and pulled herself back to the matter at hand: finishing her portfolio.  She wouldn’t dare ask Adrien to model for her, even if there was a slim chance he’d actually do it.  They were finally comfortable as friends, and while she was used to staring at nearly-nude models in class, she didn’t trust herself to not make things weird again if she had to stare at him in his underwear for hours.</p>
<p>Though unfortunately, he was probably the only one of her friends used to sitting and being stared at for hours.  Maybe it would be worth it…?</p>
<p>“Nope, nope, not doing it.”  She shut her eyes again.  She hadn’t been able to confess to Adrien in the past four years.  There was no way she could risk revealing her crush in such an embarrassing way, even to save her final grade.</p>
<p>...Granted, she’d done worse.  He’d gotten her <em>constipation </em>pills and she hadn’t given up.</p>
<p>“What are you not doing?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“ACK!”</em>
</p>
<p>Marinette bolted upright, nearly toppling off of her bed at the voice from the window.  For a moment it had sounded like Adrien himself, summoned by her thoughts.  Thankfully, it was just the blond boy who was a more regular visitor to her fifth-story window.</p>
<p>“Chat!”  She whirled to scowl at him through the windowscreen.  “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop?”</p>
<p>How long had he been there?  Had he heard Tikki?  Had he heard her not-confess to drooling about him?</p>
<p>“You left the window open.”  He shrugged from his perch on the outer ledge.</p>
<p>She had left the window open because she needed some fresh air to keep from suffocating under the pressure of her deadlines.  Sure, <em>usually </em>the open window meant Chat was welcome in, but… </p>
<p>Actually, maybe Chat Noir was exactly who she needed right now.</p>
<p>“I guess I did.”  She sighed before prying off the screen to let him in.</p>
<p>He slipped over the sill, bowed, and produced a pink rose from behind his ear.</p>
<p>“For your hospitality.”</p>
<p>She laughed and tucked it in the vase on her desk, replacing the wilting flower he’d brought her last week.  She was lucky her roommates weren’t as nosy as Alya, or she’d never hear the end of it.</p>
<p>“You know, if you’d really wanted to get me something, you could’ve brought the rabbit miraculous.”  She leaned back against her creaking desk as he took his usual spot on the cushion in the corner of the room.</p>
<p>It was a joke, but as she said it, the idea sounded tempting.  Alix wouldn’t mind parting with Fluff for a day while she patched her portfolio back together, would she?  If she weren’t worried about causing some kind of temporal paradox, she would’ve done it.</p>
<p>“Rabbit?  Sorry, someone else has already hopped on that one.”  He grinned, crossing his legs beneath him.  “You don’t feel like squeaking by with the mouse again?”</p>
<p>She stifled a laugh.  “You’re terrible.”</p>
<p>“But you’re smiling.”  Only he could look so smug about it.  She always frowned just to prove him wrong.  But she did feel better already, the way she always did around him.  “So what’s up?  I didn’t come to my favorite civilian’s house just to drop a few amazing puns.”</p>
<p>“Awful puns.”</p>
<p>He waved her off.  <em>“Anyway, </em>I just wanted to see how you were doing, with finals coming up and everything.  Akuma attacks always spike around now, you know.”</p>
<p>“Ugh, don’t remind me.”  She rubbed her temples.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, though.  Ladybug and I have special patrol routes this finals week.  We’ll take care of any akumas faster than you can say ‘<em>thank you Chat, you’re the best superhero ever’.”</em></p>
<p>Despite everything, she laughed.  The daily patrols would be just one more stress placed on her, but it was necessary after Finalizer destroyed the entire university last semester.  But Chat was surely dealing with the same thing, and he’d still taken the time out of his studying to come make sure she was alright.</p>
<p>“Thank you Chat, you’re the best superhero ever,” she said with a teasing grin.  She didn’t expect the blush that spilled out from under his mask.</p>
<p>“I-I guess I am pretty great.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.</p>
<p>“And I guess bragging about yourself is supposed to scare off akumas, huh?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I mean—hey!”  He pouted, sending her giggling again.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry.”  She joined him on the ground by the cushion.  “You <em>are </em>great.  I wasn’t expecting you, but I’m really glad you came.”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  It’s just… been a long day.”  She sighed.  “I missed my last class today, and now I don’t know how I’m going to finish my portfolio for my final.”</p>
<p>“Are you feeling okay?”  He reached out to press his palm over her forehead, as if he’d be able to feel anything through his glove.  “I’ve heard people get sick around finals week, too.  Do you want soup?  I can bring back some soup—or juice maybe?  What do you like when you’re sick?”</p>
<p><em>“Stop, </em>Chat, I’m not sick.”  Though her face probably warmed enough at his concern to pass as a fever.  “I just missed class because… um—I stayed up too late studying and accidentally fell asleep!”</p>
<p>“Oh.”  He pulled back his hand and nodded sagely.  “That makes sense.”</p>
<p>She held in a sigh of relief.  “Anyway, I need to finish at least four more figure drawings before… three days from now?  Which wouldn’t be a problem except I need a live model and it’s <em>not </em>normal for friends to strip down to draw each other.”</p>
<p>He shrugged.  “Doesn’t sound that weird to me.”</p>
<p>She pointedly did <em>not </em>imagine him stripping down in front of her.  ...Not entirely, anyway.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, unless <em>you </em>want to model for me—”</p>
<p>“I will.”  He grinned before pink tinged his cheeks.  “Um, or I would.  I don’t think I can take off my suit without revealing my identity.”</p>
<p>“You—take off—”  She made some noise that vaguely approximated a keyboard smash.  Not because of the thought of seeing him shirtless!  But he really trusted her that much, even as a civilian?</p>
<p>“Sorry, forget I offered.  It was stupid.”  He suddenly looked even more embarrassed than her, which was saying something.</p>
<p>“No, no!  I—I really appreciate it, Chat Noir.”  She squeezed his arm and smiled gently.  “I would never ask you to detransform for me, but it means a lot that you even thought about it.  Really.”</p>
<p>“You know you’re one of my best friends, Marinette.  Of course I would.  Besides, I’m used to—nevermind.”  He ruffled the hair at the back of his neck.  “Anyway, I’d gladly model for you if I could.  But hey, don’t you have a friend who’s literally a model?  Why don’t you ask him?”</p>
<p>Her eyes widened at the sudden subject change.  “A-Adrien?  NO!  I—I mean I can’t, I—”  She groaned and dropped her head in her hands.  It was bad enough for Tikki to tease her, but if Chat Noir found out about her maybe-not-so-old crush?  She would never hear the end of it.</p>
<p>“Why not?”  His head tilted, his brow creasing beneath his mask.  “He <em>is </em>your friend, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”  She sighed.  <em>Just </em>a friend, who would probably <em>not </em>enjoy her ogling him half-naked.  Which wasn’t the point!  She was just trying to pass her class, not stare at boys!</p>
<p>Maybe she should ask Alya at this rate.  She was ride-or-die enough to do it.  But Alya had a worse finals schedule than any of her friends, with all the journalism papers she’d put off while chasing akumas for the Ladyblog.  Nino, then?  No, he had several music scores to finish composing.</p>
<p>Adrien probably had as much work as the rest of them, with his math and physics classes.  It wouldn’t make sense to ask him.</p>
<p>“Then I don’t see what the big deal is,” Chat said.  “I’m sure he’d love to model for you.”</p>
<p>“He’s probably busy,” she said, which was true.  “And besides, modeling for figure drawing is completely different from clothes modeling.  You have to hold poses much longer, and some of them are weird, and you have to, you know, <em>wear a lot less clothes.”</em></p>
<p>Her face burned.  She was stupid to even bring it up; she was just digging herself an even deeper hole.</p>
<p>“I think you underestimate how long photoshoots take,” he quipped back, and she raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“How would you know, anyway?”</p>
<p>“I-I wouldn’t!  I just think, all things considered, he’s your best choice.  I’m just trying to suggest what’s best for your grade, as a good, supportive friend should do.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.”  She frowned.  It did seem a bit odd how insistent he was on this.  Had he guessed her not-so-secret-crush after all?  “It doesn’t matter, because it’s not going to happen.”</p>
<p>“But—”</p>
<p>“Nope,” she cut him off, shoving him a little to make room for herself on the cushion.  He scooted to let her smush in next to him.  “I’d sooner draw you suited up.”</p>
<p>“...Would that work?”</p>
<p>She glanced at his chest, which was about at her eye level with the way she was slouched against him.  She never really thought about it before—really, she hadn’t—but the suit didn’t leave too much to the imagination.  If she used Chat as a model and just fudged a few parts, would anyone really be able to tell?  It would definitely be easier to get the proportions right than it would be drawing from a screen, especially for the quick gestures that were supposed to comprise a third of her portfolio.  </p>
<p>And if it distracted him from asking about Adrien, well, that was just a bonus.</p>
<p>“You know what?  I think it would.”  She grinned and scrambled up to get her drawing board, which she’d dropped against her desk as soon as she’d gotten home, too exhausted to store it properly.  Part of the giant pad of newsprint was coming off of its clips, and she adjusted it before propping it up against the foot of her bed.  It was even less comfortable than the benches in the drawing lab, but it would do.</p>
<p>“You—really?”  He beamed.</p>
<p>“Of course, silly cat.  I might not be able to use you for the detailed figures, but need gesture drawings too.  Your suit is tight enough that—nevermind.”  She flushed again.  This was such a bad idea.</p>
<p>But it would work.  If she could be professional with Chat Noir while fighting akumas, then surely she could be as professional as she was with the paid figure drawing models.</p>
<p>She expected him to tease her over that last comment, but he just sprung up and started striking ridiculous poses.</p>
<p>“So, how do you want me?”  He flexed, and she snorted.</p>
<p>“Not like <em>that.  </em>These are warm-up gestures, so let’s have you do a few that you can hold for at least thirty seconds.  They can be standing or sitting or using props, it doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Props, huh?”  He tapped his chin before reaching behind his back for his baton.  It wasn’t like it was <em>unusual </em>for models to pose with staves in class, but she still had a feeling she was going to regret giving Chat Noir that permission.</p>
<p>Two seconds later when he had an arm and a leg wrapped around his baton, she <em>knew </em>she regretted it.</p>
<p>“How’s this?”  He asked, flashing a toothy grin.</p>
<p><em>“Chat.”  </em>She glared, and he laughed before stopping his joking attempt at pole dancing.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry.”  His grin was unrepentant, but he rested the baton behind his shoulders instead.  “Better?”</p>
<p>She shook her head while letting out a little laugh.  He was just such a <em>dork.  </em></p>
<p>“Sure, that’ll work.”</p>
<p>She fished her conté sticks out of her pencil case, set a thirty second timer on her phone, and swore that she wouldn’t make this awkward.</p>
<p>She looked up to find him pursing his lips in a kissy face.</p>
<p>Aaaand she promptly burst out laughing.</p>
<p>“If you’re going to make that face, I’ll have to ask someone else to model for me.”</p>
<p>“Nooooo!  I’ll be good, I promise!”</p>
<p>True to his word, he schooled his face into a neutral expression.  His charcoal-lidded eyes peered up through golden bangs. </p>
<p>She forgot to breathe for a few seconds.</p>
<p>“Marinette?  Is this better?”</p>
<p>“Uh—y-yeah!  That’s great, just hold that until the timer goes off, then switch poses.”</p>
<p>She pressed the start button and brought her conté to the paper before she could get lost in his eyes again.</p>
<p>From there, it was much easier.  She was used to staying professional during her figure drawing classes, and all she was doing was capturing his form, not the bright green shade of his irises.  Not that the sharp curves of his shoulderblades and defined calves couldn’t be distracting too.  But the timer helped with that; she couldn’t lose focus when her warm-ups each lasted thirty seconds.</p>
<p>“How do you draw so <em>fast?”  </em>He asked after shifting to pose where he knelt close to her sketchpad.</p>
<p>Her face colored in embarrassment.  It was much harder to draw someone when they could watch you.  Gesture drawings weren’t particularly interesting to the untrained eye; he probably thought she was wasting his time drawing glorified stick figures. </p>
<p><em>“Woah,” </em>he breathed.</p>
<p>“Stay still,” she said before he could learn farther into her space.</p>
<p>“Sorry.”  He snapped back into position.  “It’s just your drawings—I don’t know much about art, but they just.  They look like they’re <em>moving.”</em></p>
<p>“You can tell?”  She smiled hopefully, briefly forgetting about the timer.  “That’s the point of gestures.  It’s to warm up and get the form on paper without getting lost in details.  It’s not what I draw the most, since I’m taking this class to prepare to draw my fashion designs, but I’ve enjoyed it a lot.”</p>
<p>“It really shows.  And you can do this even though you missed so many classes?”</p>
<p>“Er—well I do practice outside of class as much as I can.  It wasn’t easy.”  She’d nearly snapped her conté sticks from frustration those first few weeks.  Professor Carbonneau was pretty lenient with her students, but that didn’t stop her from comparing her drawings to all of the studio art majors who had clearly been practicing for much longer.  She knew her art still wasn’t the top of the class, but as long as she could pass with a grade high enough to stay in her major, she would be grateful.</p>
<p>The timer buzzed, reminding them both to get back to work.  </p>
<p>“Let’s move it up to a minute this time,” she said.  </p>
<p>“Whatever the Princess wishes.” Chat Noir bowed, holding the pose for her to draw.</p>
<p>She laughed and went back to putting him down in black and white.</p>
<p>Tension leaked out of her as she swept her conté in long arcs, soft shadows, sharp edges.  Somehow Chat Noir was a much better model than she’d expected.  He barely twitched under her scrutinizing gaze.  Every once in a while he cracked a joke that set her line shaking, and she had to force herself to glare at him.</p>
<p>It was normal.  It was <em>fun.  </em>Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.</p>
<p>At least, that was what she thought until they finally got to the fifteen-minute pieces.  </p>
<p>Fifteen minutes.  Fifteen minutes of staring at her partner lounging on the cushion like a <em>real </em>model.  Taking down the contours of his legs and side and maybe-occasionally just staring at his chest.</p>
<p>If he noticed, he was at least kind enough not to comment.</p>
<p>She swallowed, glanced at the timer, and kept drawing.  This one would be for her portfolio; she couldn’t afford to get too distracted.  Not that she should find him distracting in the first place.</p>
<p>“Let’s take a break.  You’ve been at this for a while,” she said when the timer finally went off.  She folded the cover back over her sketchpad and set it aside.</p>
<p>“You’re the one who’s been drawing.  All I had to do was sit there.”  He shrugged.</p>
<p>“That must not be easy to do for so long, though.  In our class, the models get breaks every thirty minutes.”</p>
<p>“Really?”  His eyes widened.  “That must be nice.”</p>
<p>“We can’t have anyone falling asleep on us,” she joked, standing and holding out a hand to help him to his feet.  “Come on, I’ll order us a pizza.  It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”</p>
<p>His cheeks pinked below his mask.  “It’s nothing, really.  I’m a pro at sitting and looking pretty.”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes, but unfortunately couldn’t argue with that.</p>
<p>XXX</p>
<p>“So,” Chat Noir said before swallowing a mouthful of pineapple pizza, “did you get enough drawings for your class?”</p>
<p>“Not quite.”  Marinette sighed, running her fingers over the edge of the paper plate in her lap.  “I still need a few thirty-minute pieces.  I don’t want to keep you here all night, though.”</p>
<p>“You know cats like to stay up late, Princess.”  He winked.  “But in this case, I do actually have a study session early tomorrow.  What if I came back tomorrow afternoon?”</p>
<p>“Hmm… I guess that could work.”  She took a bite of her pizza.  “I didn’t want too many drawings of the same model, but I don’t have many other options.  And you <em>are </em>really good at this.  I just wish I could...”</p>
<p>“Could what?”</p>
<p>“I could really use someone who <em>doesn’t </em>wear a full body suit for the longer poses.”  She sighed.  “Your suit’s too shiny for me to pass it off as skin, and I can’t make up the shading from scratch.  My professor will know.”</p>
<p>“There’s always Adrien,” he said with a smirk.</p>
<p>Marinette had half a mind to throw her pizza at him.  “Why won’t you let that go?”</p>
<p>“Because I know for a fact he would love to help you out.”  He shook his crust at her.</p>
<p>Her face flushed at the word <em>love.  </em>She thought she was better than this by now!  </p>
<p>“Really?  And how can you be sure?”</p>
<p>“Because I—uh—because…”  He glanced back and forth before shoving the pizza crust into his mouth.</p>
<p>“Come on, spit it out, Chat—no not <em>literally!” </em>she exclaimed when he frantically spat the crust back onto his plate.</p>
<p>He sheepishly grinned and put the slobbery food back in his mouth.  She smacked her forehead, probably getting pizza grease there.</p>
<p>“You’re gross, you know that?”</p>
<p>He swallowed.  How he didn’t choke on the crust, she didn’t know.  </p>
<p>“But you love me anyway.”</p>
<p>“Keep dreaming, kitty.”  She managed to get it out without so much as a stutter, despite the heat remaining in her cheeks.  Whatever feelings she did or didn’t have for Chat, it wasn’t like she could act on them.  Not when they couldn’t know each other’s identities, and not when she still couldn’t get over Adrien.</p>
<p>Not when he’d already gotten over her.</p>
<p>“Anyway, what were you trying to tell me?”  She asked before she could dwell on that.</p>
<p>“Oh.  Uh.”  This time he didn’t have any more food to use as a distraction.  His eyes darted back and forth before he sighed.  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but… IthinkAdrienhasacrushonyou.”</p>
<p>Marinette felt her brain cells fizzle out at trying to process that sentence. She had to have misheard, hadn’t she?  “Come again?”</p>
<p>“Adrien,” he said more clearly, “has a crush on you.”</p>
<p>Was she dreaming?  She was dreaming.  She had to be.</p>
<p>“And how would <em>you </em>know that?”  She asked, her voice a little higher than normal.</p>
<p>He crossed his arms.  “A cat never reveals his secrets.  And besides, even if I’m wrong—which I’m not—he’d still help you because you’re his friend, and he cares about you.  So I really think you should ask him, or else I’ll use my superheroly powers to get him to model for you myself.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t.”  Her eyes narrowed, though her heart was beating out of her chest.  Adrien?  Having a crush on <em>her?  </em>It wasn’t like they’d seen each other too often this semester, with both of them being busy with their classes.  Why would he like her <em>now?</em></p>
<p>At first she thought he was going to argue, but then he seemed to deflate.  “Fine.  I’m sorry for being so pushy, I just… you really don’t like him, do you?  Did something happen?”</p>
<p>Why did he seem so hurt by that?  “N-<em>no!  </em>I mean, I <em>do </em>like him, I like him a-a lot actually, and—you can <em>not </em>tell him this,” she threatened with a finger near his nose.</p>
<p>He went cross eyed trying to look at it, but nodded. </p>
<p>She dropped her hand.  This was stupid.  If Chat knew about her crush… she’d worried about him teasing her, but really, he was her friend.  Her <em>best </em>friend.  She had to keep enough secrets from him because of her identity.  It would feel good to at least be able to share one.</p>
<p>“I’ve had a crush on Adrien <em>forever, </em>Chat,” she finally admitted.  “That’s why I didn’t want to ask him to be my model.  I don’t want to get distracted.  I need my drawings to be the best they can, and I <em>especially </em>don’t need him catching me ogling him.”</p>
<p>Her face burned.  It was one thing to share secrets, but maybe she didn’t need to share <em>that </em>much.</p>
<p>He laughed.  Was her crush really that funny?  He almost sounded <em>surprised </em>though, like there was any chance she wouldn’t fall for a sweet, caring, kind friend who also happened to be unfairly attractive.  Maybe he was only surprised because he thought puns and roses were the way to a girl’s heart.</p>
<p>(His way had worked too, though, hadn’t it?)</p>
<p>“So you <em>want </em>to ogle him.”  He wiggled his eyebrows.</p>
<p>“Yes—no—shut up!”  She shoved him, and he collapsed laughing on the carpet. </p>
<p>“I’m hurt, Marinette.  And here I thought you wanted to ogle <em>me.”</em></p>
<p>“I hate you,” she said through her fingers as she contemplated ways to erase this conversation from existence.  Could a Lucky Charm do that?  “I can’t believe I ever thought I liked you.”</p>
<p>“Ouch.  And here I thought your dad’s punches hurt.  Whoever made up that ‘sticks and stones’ saying was a liar.”</p>
<p>It took her a moment to realize he was referring to the time her papa was akumatized.  Of course he wouldn’t expect that she actually liked him <em>now.</em></p>
<p>That was for the best though.  She wasn’t supposed to admit that, not as Marinette, <em>especially </em>not when she’d just learned Adrien (probably) had a crush on her.  She could hardly go out with Adrien when Chat Noir snuck in her window a few times a week, could she?</p>
<p>It hurt too much to think of letting her strange more-than-friendship with her partner go.</p>
<p>“So, you think there’s time for one more drawing?” he asked, brushing his hands off on his suit.</p>
<p>“If you’re still up for it.”  She couldn’t turn down the opportunity, even if she was even more afraid of giving her feelings away now.  Besides, if he thought she only liked Adrien, he wouldn’t notice her acting weird.  Right?</p>
<p>“Of course.  Can’t deny you the opportunity to capture all this.”  He flexed his arms in a few different poses.</p>
<p>“You know, I was going to thank you, but now I think that might go to your head.”  She laughed.</p>
<p>“Ah, it’s too late for that.”  He grinned.  “You’ve already inflated my ego beyond repair.”</p>
<p>She didn’t see how, but he was already holding his pose, one hand on his hip, the other arm flexing up near his head.  His legs were braced in a slight squat that would probably hurt to hold for too long, but left her with an all-too-good view of his quads.</p>
<p>She set her timer for thirty minutes and hoped that she could keep her secrets to herself a little longer.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Drawing Adrien Agreste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter is slightly spicier but really they're both just. so stupid. it's their best quality</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, she caved.  </p><p>“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered, pacing back and forth just inside her apartment door.  Her three roommates were out at a study session, a movie premier, and a date, respectively.  Only one of those sounded like a productive use of the weekend before finals, but everyone dealt with stress differently.  At least it meant that no one would be home to witness her embarrassment.</p><p>Adrien was coming over.  To her apartment.  Alone.  She might as well have been fourteen again, for how frazzled she felt.  What if Chat Noir was wrong?  What if Adrien hated her drawings?  What if she accidentally got charcoal on his flawless skin?</p><p>What if he confessed to crushing on her?  Could she even go out with him with her crazy schedule, and with… <em>whatever </em>it was she felt for Chat Noir?</p><p>“You’ve got this,” Tikki encouraged, flitting about her head.  “You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re Marinette!”</p><p>“Right.  Right!”  She forced some courage into her voice.  She <em>wasn’t </em>fourteen anymore.  She could do this.  She was just going to draw Adrien, and cross any other bridges when she came to them.</p><p>The buzzer practically startled her out of her skin.  She jumped to press the button to let him in.  Wait, was it even him?  What if it was someone else, like Alya, or her roommates come home early?  No, that didn’t make sense; her roommates all had keys, obviously.</p><p>Tikki flew off to hide, but not before placing a kiss at the part of Marinette’s hair for good luck.</p><p>Tikki was right.  Everything was going to be fine.</p><p>A knock sounded at the door, and Marinette opened it at the first rap.  Then promptly had to stop her jaw from dropping.</p><p>It was unfair how attractive Adrien had gotten in the last year.  She’d thought he was cute in collegè and lycée, but now?  It wasn’t like he looked much older<em>—</em>he still had the same soft jawline and kind eyes she loved—but he’d gained a little bit of muscle that peaked out from the sleeves of his black-and-green plaid overshirt.  </p><p>Plaid.  Not solid white.  It had been a shock when he started wearing more patterns like that at the start of last semester.  While he still had his job as a Gabriel model, he no longer had to abide by his dad’s fashion standards for his street clothes.  Going thrifting with him, Alya, and Nino had been one of their first (and few) get-togethers as university students.  She was pretty sure that was when he’d gotten the math pun t-shirt he now wore.  It was hard to believe he could look good in <em>that, </em>but the chaotic disaster fashion somehow suited him.</p><p>“Adrien!”  She tried to smile normally, not as stupidly wide as she wanted too.  “It feels like it’s been forever!”</p><p>“Really?  Feels like we just saw each other yesterday.”  He grinned.  <em>Grinned.  </em>It had been so long since she’d been on the receiving end of that genuine smile.  None of his recent photoshoots could top that.  </p><p>“Nino’s birthday was back in February.”  His party was the last time they’d all gotten together.  If she’d been braver, she probably would have planned something with just Adrien more recently.  It wasn’t like she had to wait for Alya and Nino to be free to hang out with her friend.</p><p>He was her friend.  She wasn’t going to make this weird.  </p><p>Even if drawing your friends in their underwear was, objectively speaking, pretty weird.</p><p>“That long, huh?”  Grin turned to grimace as he rubbed the back of his neck, rumpling the collar of his shirt.  “We should fix that.  Would you want to get together after finals are over?  We could get some celebratory ice cream.”</p><p>Wait—<em>what?</em>  Was he asking her on a date?  <em>Already?  </em>Her heart sped up involuntarily.  She’d expected him to at least wait until the end of the drawing session—if he asked at all, which had probably been an arrogant assumption on her part.  Maybe he just meant as friends.  That would make more sense, except Chat had said— </p><p>“Marinette?”  Adrien asked.  “We don’t have to, if you’re busy, or you just don’t want to—it’s okay.”</p><p>That smile was nothing like the one she loved.  Wafer-thin, ready to crack at the faintest pressure.</p><p>“No, I do, I do!  I’m just—still thinking about finals so much,  I don’t know what kind of ice cream I want yet.”  She winced.  Not the best save, but definitely not as bad as some in her collegè years.  She hadn’t mentioned coleslaw at least.</p><p>He just smiled, though.  “You could think about it while we’re drawing.  Well, while you’re drawing, and I’m sitting.  Or standing.  Or—however you want me.”</p><p>She doubted she’d have any brain cells left for ice cream after staring at him shirtless, but she nodded quickly.</p><p>“Right!  We can go in my room, if that’s okay?  Just because I don’t know for sure when my roommates will be home and I don’t know if it would be awkward if they saw you, um, you know—nevermind.”  She bit her lip, blushing.  </p><p>This was only awkward if she made it awkward.  She just had to keep repeating that until she believed it.  It hadn’t been awkward when she drew Chat Noir, had it?</p><p>“That sounds perfect.  I’m ready whenever you are.”  He smiled again.  </p><p>Were her legs turning to mush?  She wiggled a bit in place just to make sure she still could.  Dang, she must look like a weirdo.  </p><p>“Mow!  I mean, now!  Grow’s nate.”</p><p><em>Strong, capable Marinette, huh?  </em>She thought as she speedwalked toward her room.  If she was barely coherent now, how was she going to handle seeing him in his underwear?</p><p><em>By acting PROFESSIONAL, </em>she reminded herself.</p><p>That thought held her together right up until Adrien started stripping in her bedroom.  </p><p>She might have squeaked.  No, <em>squeak </em>wasn’t the right word for the unholy sound that came out of her mouth.  A gargle?  Something like a gargle.</p><p>“Marinette?  Are you okay?”  He paused with his jeans around his calves.  </p><p>She was <em>not </em>going to stare at his butt.  (Not until she had to draw it, anyway.)</p><p>“Yep!  Yep, just peachy!”  And screaming on the inside at her stupidity, but he didn’t need to know that.  </p><p>She grabbed her art board and hunkered behind it like it was a shield until he finished undressing.  </p><p>“So what length of poses are we going for?”  He stretched his arms above his head, shoulders and ab muscles pulling in ways that would’ve been fascinating to draw, if she’d been able to tear her eyes away from the band of his underwear hugging his hips.</p><p>“Forever?”  She mumbled stupidly before ripping her eyes away.  “Ah—I mean, I don’t want to take forever!  Let’s start with warmups.  Thirty seconds.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me.”</p><p>Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on which part of her you asked), he held that stretching pose for the first round.  Somehow her sketch turned out alright.  Nothing to brag about, but for the first gesture of the session, the proportions and shapes looked natural.  Maybe staring at Adrien was actually helping her memorize anatomy.</p><p>Her alarm went off.  He switched to standing on one foot, holding out his arms like an airplane.  It was silly enough to make her laugh, releasing some of the pressure that had been building in her lungs.  Plus the angle forced her outside of her comfort zone, which was always useful for gestures.</p><p>The next few poses he held were even more ridiculous.  Standing on his hands, dabbing—he even did the <em>splits.  </em>Where did he get that strength and flexibility?  If it had been anyone else, she’d have thought he was showing off.</p><p>“Don’t hurt yourself,” she warned as he did a backbend.</p><p>“I’m fine!  I could do this all day!”  He grinned at her upside-down.  Who gave him the right to be both hot <em>and </em>hilarious?  The only other person who could make her laugh so much was Chat Noir.</p><p>She bit her lip at the thoughts of her partner.  How was she supposed to handle crushing on <em>two </em>amazing boys at the same time?</p><p>She shook her head and set to putting his backbend on paper.  His legs looked tiny from this angle; she wasn’t sure she got the proportions right.  The timer went off before she could sketch his hands, so he looked like he was floating upside-down on two little nubs.</p><p>He dropped the pose, flopping on the ground with a grunt.</p><p>“Harder than you thought, huh?”  She smirked.  During patrols, she and Chat occasionally had athletics contests where they did things like that.  Adrien held the positions surprisingly well for a non-superhero.</p><p>“Nah, I’m just getting warmed up!”  He shook out his hair, which curled around his ears in the cutest way.  “What do you want to see next?  A backflip?  I can do a backflip.”</p><p>She burst out laughing.  “Adrien, I doubt even you can hold a <em>backflip </em>for thirty seconds.”</p><p>He crossed his arms and pouted.  “Well.  I could try.”</p><p>“How about you just hold that instead?  I’ll move up to two minutes.”  She didn’t want to waste time on too many gestures, not when she had a perfect model who could sit still for the longer poses.  She could always ask Chat again if she needed more quick sketches.  </p><p>“Why did you want to do such funny poses, anyway?”  She asked as she reset her timer.  “I thought you’d be used to, you know, fashion poses.  Like catwalking, or something like that.”</p><p>He chuckled, but otherwise didn’t move.  “I can catwalk for you if you’d prefer.”</p><p>“No, these are great too.  We can save that for a longer pose.”  She flipped to a clean page and started sketching.</p><p>The shock of seeing Adrien’s shirtless body had worn off by the time she got to the first thirty minute drawing.  At least, she thought it had, until he struck a reclining pose with his fingers tangled seductively in his hair.  He’d posed like that before on the covers of fashion magazines, but the effect was distinctly different from when he was fully clothed.</p><p>She swallowed, trying to fight the heat in her face.  He was just a model.  She’d drawn plenty of attractive models in her class.  If she zoomed her focus in on the details—the curve of his pectorals, the dip beneath his knee—maybe she could ignore the fact that it was <em>Adrien </em>she was transferring to her paper.</p><p>But before the details, she needed his general form.  A lithe s-curve from his neck to spine to legs.  Broad, light strokes for his arms.  Conté etched out joints and muscles that felt… strangely familiar?</p><p>Probably just déjà vu from drawing Chat Noir yesterday.  They were both about the same height, build, even shared similar hair.  If she dodged his eyes, and imagined black leather instead of smooth skin…</p><p>Her hand shook, smearing a bit of charcoal across drawing-Adrien’s thigh.  This <em>wasn’t </em>deja vu.  After yesterday, she’d know the contours of his muscles anywhere.  It had only taken so long to notice because she’d been firmly focused on keeping her cool.</p><p>Keeping her cool.  Right.  That’s what she should be doing, instead of staring directly at Adrien—at <em>Chat Noir—</em>as her conté slipped from her fingers.</p><p>“Marinette?  What’s wrong?”  To his credit, he didn’t move from his pose, though his eyes went wide.  “I don’t have something on my face, do I?”</p><p>She spluttered something incoherent while flipping through her drawing pad.  Her longest drawing of Chat had Adrien’s same defined calves, his same divot between deltoid and bicep that would hold her thumb perfectly.  But was that enough proof?  It could be chalked up to her art style, but then again, she’d paid careful attention to detail.</p><p>Speaking of attention to detail…</p><p>Her eyes honed in on the silver ring Adrien always wore.  Even when he stripped to just his underwear, he hadn’t removed it.</p><p>“You’re kind of freaking me out here,” he said with a strained laugh.  “Was the pose too much?  I can move if you—”</p><p>“No!”  She shouted, nearly flipping her drawing board over as she waved her hands.  “I-I’m furpectly pine!  I can’t art stover now!”</p><p>The timer was still running.  She could always keep drawing after it went off, but he could only stay for so long.  He had finals to study for too.</p><p>She took a deep breath and threw herself back into her drawing.  But all she could see was Chat Noir’s smirk and Chat Noir’s hair and Chat Noir’s <em>abs</em>.</p><p>And Chat Noir’s ring.  The unmistakable shape was the last proof she needed.</p><p>This was fine.  She was fine!  She wasn’t freaking out at all!</p><p>But then she remembered <em>Adrien </em>spitting out pizza in front of her yesterday, and couldn’t help a hysterical laugh.</p><p>“Marinette, I’m sorry, but you need a break.  I can hold the same pose later.”  Adrien stood up, coming around to place a soft hand on her back.  “Do you want me to get you some water?  Or—do you need medicine?  Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?  You feel pretty hot.”</p><p>“You’re pretty hot,” she blurted before smacking her conté-smeared hands to her mouth.  “Oh my gosh.  Kill me now,” she mumbled through her fingers, ducking her head.  Not in time to miss Adrien’s Chat-like smirk, though.</p><p>“Huh?  What was that?”</p><p>“Shut up!  You heard me!  And—you already knew that, because I told you yesterday!”  Everything came rushing back.  Every embarrassing thing she’d ever done with her partner...  <em>“Oh my gosh. </em>I told you about my crush on <em>you!” </em></p><p>“Yester… <em>oh.”  </em>His eyes went wide.  He took a step back, his lips moving wordlessly before settling on, “How did you find out?”</p><p>He looked ridiculous, standing there in his underwear, blushing down to his neck.  She wanted to laugh at least half as much as she wanted to kiss him.</p><p>“You gave me a lot of time to stare at you.  <em>Both </em>of you.  I just noticed the similarities.”</p><p>He smacked his forehead.  “Of course you did.  You’re the smartest person I know, besides Ladybug.  Ladybug!  She is going to <em>kill </em>me!”</p><p>“What makes you say that?”  She frowned. Was he really that afraid of her?  Learning that she was his nightmare back when they fought Sandboy was bad enough, but that was years ago.</p><p>“She doesn’t even know my identity.”  His shoulders slumped.  “I always wanted her to be the first to know.  Not that I didn’t want you to find out!  I always wished I could tell you too.  You’re so special to me, Marinette.”</p><p>He twisted his ring around his finger, lacking anything else to fiddle with.  “I should probably go try to find her.  She’ll want to know.  But I don’t regret you knowing, so please don’t feel bad—” </p><p>“Adrien, it’s okay.”  She stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm, her thumb unconsciously finding that perfect divot she’d drawn.  Black conté smudged his flawless skin, but somehow she didn’t think he’d mind.  “Ladybug won’t be mad.  I promise.”</p><p>He sighed.  “You don’t know Ladybug like I do.  Even if she’s not mad, she'll be <em>disappointed.  </em>That’s even worse.”</p><p>“No, Chat—”  She shook her head, letting out an affectionate huff.  This wasn’t how she planned to reveal herself to her partner, but she couldn’t leave him stewing in guilt he didn’t deserve.  <em>“I’m </em>Ladybug.”</p><p>He froze beneath her hand.  The air felt electrified as she waited for his response.</p><p>“You—you’re my Lady,” he whispered reverently.</p><p>She shivered at the nickname.  How long had it been since he called her that?  Ever since he’d given up on her…</p><p><em>Oh. OH</em>.  </p><p>He’d given up on Ladybug.  And he’d told her that <em>Adrien </em>had a crush on <em>Marinette.</em></p><p>She felt bolder as she smiled back.  “And you’re my kitty.”  </p><p>“I can—I mean, can I be?”  He murmured, his eyes hopeful.</p><p>Any hesitation she’d had, any excuses for denying him, vanished like smoke.  She loved him—Adrien, Chat Noir, <em>him.  </em>She barely would’ve been able to turn down either half, let alone the whole package.</p><p>So she braced charcoal-stained hands on his face and kissed her answer against his lips.</p><p>XXX</p><p>“So how long do you think it will take her to remember he’s not wearing clothes?”  Plagg asked from his hiding spot beneath Marinette’s bed.</p><p>“I’ll give her three minutes.  Humans need to breathe sooner than that, right?”  Tikki squinted at her chosen, who was wrapped tightly in Adrien’s arms, her lips locked with his.  Tikki was just glad she’d convinced Plagg that watching from here was more fun than interrupting their holders’ moment.</p><p>“How should I know?”  Plagg shrugged.  “If they pass five minutes though, I’m breaking them up.  The only kind of cheese I’m here for is Camembert, or maybe a nice smoked Gouda.  Not <em>this </em>mushiness.”</p><p>Tikki rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  But <em>only </em>because Marinette needs to finish her portfolio.  Once their finals are over, they can kiss as much as they want.”</p><p>“Blegh.  I’m never going to get Adrien to shut up about her now.”</p><p>“Don’t think I missed you smiling, stinky sock.  Just admit you’re happy for them!  They’ve waited years for this!”  </p><p>And so had she, though she’d never been able to admit it.  With Marinette as guardian, it was more important than ever to keep her identity secret.  But she couldn’t be upset when her chosen was so happy.</p><p>“As if, sugarcube!  I was just smiling because now Adrien won’t transform every time he comes over.  I can finally see what kind of cheese Pigtails keeps around here.”</p><p>“Plagg, there’s more to life than—”</p><p>A sharp squeak cut her off.  So Marinette had finally processed Adrien’s state of undress.  His laugh echoed through the room as he began putting his clothes back on.</p><p>“Guess they’re not getting any more work done today.”  Plagg yawned.  “Wake me up when they’re done sighing over each other.”</p><p>“They’re not <em>sighing.”  </em></p><p>Instead they were cuddling, and kissing, and laughing as Marinette sat in Adrien’s lap.</p><p>Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let them relax a little longer.  Finals came every semester, but moments like this only came around once in a lifetime.</p>
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